REC RULES (#1)

Written by: Gabe

The search for lost glory. The registration fees. The tragic team names. The championship t-shirts. The inflated egos. The weekend war. This is rec league soccer.

If there is one infallible law of the rec league world, it is rule #1. When we all accept this, the world will be a better place.

About an hour ago I was on the giving end of a 4-2 win and the receiving end of some verbal jabs from one particular opponent. “That high school shit don’t [sic] work on me,” was his first volley, in reference to some of my wayward footwork. He continued throughout the game, insulting various players on my team. I was surprised by his unprovoked brashness. Sure, trash talk is accepted in a soccer player’s repertoire, but in a rec league? Why go for a mental edge that risks others’ perceptions of you as a person, in a contest full of people who play soccer for fun and health? There is no relegation zone. You can’t be fired for a bad performance, nor get a raise or called up for a good one. It’s out of place, and ironically juvenile. (And speaking of irony, I would estimate any high school team within 20 miles could have their way with any team in our division… including this guy’s.)

So, guy, I refer you to the first law of rec league soccer: It’s just a rec league. You don’t need the cheap advantage you might go for in a cutthroat professional environment. If it were that type of environment, I would have headbutted you with haste. ‘Cause that’s how it’s done.

The widespread delusion that what we do on the field has some greater significance than helping us stay in shape, or giving us a healthy competition once or twice a week, is an endearing quirk of the rec league. When players mouth off, or commit fouls out of frustration, I have to wonder if it’s rooted not in competitive spirit but a deeper resentment of underachievement in other aspects of life. Like, maybe he didn’t get much playing time in high school. Or his kids hate him. Or his wife is cheating on him. Or maybe he was afraid we actually were better than him. To which I retort, WHO FUCKING CARES? (see rule #1)

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There is a tiny nation in the world of soccer of which many of us are citizens: The Recreation League. Far from Old Trafford, papparazzi, and highlight reels, you’ll find me playing co-ed, open age group, in a middle tier division, in Columbus, Ohio. In the grand soccer scheme, my team hardly exists. There is no cup for us. We have no fans, no salary, no recognition, and no respect outside our microcosm. But what is inside the microcosm is what Rec Rules is about—a regular look inside the American recreation league culture.

Tags: Recreational Soccer